Just A Child
by Laser Lance 720
Summary: Looking down at the quiet, sleeping form of Harry Potter, she doubted Number 4 Privet Drive was the best place for him to grow up. - Maybe she had been right. And even scarier, maybe she had put her faith in the wrong person. After all, he was just a child. A child who needed their help. Why did no one else see that?


Written for **Battle Fields** ( _Characters_ ; Minerva McGonagall, Harry Potter, _Prompts_ ; [word] heal, [emotion] guilty, [word] exposed, [quote] "It hurts the most when the people who made you feel so special yesterday can make you feel so unwanted today, [dialogue] "I've never hated someone as much as I hate you right now."), **Huge TV Quotes Bucket** ("Pain doesn't go away. You just make room for it." –Andrea, _The Walking Dead_ ), **Orange is the New Black Quote Challenge** ("I'm not crazy; I'm chosen"), **Variety of Prompts** (Object: Bowl)

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own Harry Potter or anything that had to do with it.

-oOo-  
-oOo-  
-oOo-

The first time she saw the child he was no more than a year or so old. Despite the scar jutting across his forehead, and the windblown hair that sat around his little face, the child was content in Hagrid's arms. He had no idea the death toll that had risen in his home just hours prior. He was sleeping, his face scrunched up in a tired yawn as he squirmed a bit to get more comfortable.

"Let me take him," Minerva reached out, motioning for the young man to hand her the infant.

Hagrid looked down at the sleeping baby. A smile was setting over the half giant's face as he took in the small child. After a moment, he stepped closer, shifting the child until she could take him.

Holding him tightly in her arms, Minerva ran a finger over the scar that crossed his forehead. There was still a bit of blood on the corner of the cut. Wetting her finger, she gently massaged the mess from his pale skin.

"Is this where…" she trailed off, eyes refusing to leave the scar on the innocent child.

"Yes," Albus' voice was ahead of them as they walked up the driveway. "I'm afraid the scar will be permanent."

"It isn't right," Minerva ran a finger over the child's chubby cheek. "He's just a child."

"I know," Albus said, coming to a stop halfway up the driveway. "But he is safe now. And we must do this."

Minerva shifted so that the baby was turned away from Albus. "I don't think this is wise."

"We have to do this Minerva." Albus said, his hand resting softly on her shoulder. "The boy must go with his relatives."

"What of Sirius?" She asked, eyeing the little white house with its perfectly mowed lawn. Everything was too crisp, too straight. She didn't like it. "He is the boy's Godfather."

"It needs to be a blood relative," Albus answered. "The Dursley's are Harry's best chance at a normal life."

"I don't like it," Minerva held the boy closer to her chest. "This doesn't feel right, Albus."

"We have no choice," Albus replied. "The protection spell Lily cast will only hold should Harry be with blood relatives. He needs to be here."

"Then I'll have Petunia do a damn blood bond with me." Minerva's voice was low, her eyes narrowed at her friend. She drew the boy closer. "That should be enough to transfer the spell to include me. I will take him. He's probably safer with me than with these Muggles. They have no way to protect him. And I do not trust these people with him."

"They are his family."

"Blood isn't as thick as you would like to think. You remember Petunia's distain for the magical world. How do you think she will react to this? To having to take in her estranged sister's child. How do we know he'll be safe?"

"We'll have faith." That was all Albus said before he continued the last stretch onto the house's small front porch. Minerva followed, frowning with a tight frown. She didn't like the feeling this house was giving off.

Dumbledore wrapped his knuckles against the door, and Minerva actually dreaded that the family inside would awake and that they would have to leave the child with them.

There was no response from inside the house. Minerva wanted to take that as a sign to turn and leave, the child with them. Knocking once more, the trio outside could hear the loud grumblings of a man waking up and a child crying. The lights went on from a second floor room.

Albus turned to Hagrid, smiling with a twinkle to his eyes. "I believe we can handle this my boy. Your help is much appreciated. Go, join the celebration. We will be there as soon as we can. Set aside some sweets for me, please."

"Got it," Hagrid said, taking a step back. "I'll be headin' back." His eyes went onto the infant child. He opened his mouth to speak, but a soft sob came out instead. "Can I just- could I say goodbye?"

Minerva leaned forward, allowing Hagrid to run a large finger over the baby's cheek. Tears were falling heavily down his cheek, and she understood his pain. Even as a child, the boy resembled his parents. Parents who had been friends with them. Parents who were now…

"I'll be headin' back," Hagrid drew back. "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. He'll want to know little 'Arry's okay. G'night Professor McGonagall – Professor Dumbledore."

Hagrid walked away, his footsteps sullen as he went. He made it to the bike in little timing and climbed onto the seat. Looking back, he nodded and started the engine.

The bike roared and just as it pulled off down the road, ready to make its ascent, the door to Number 4 Privet Drive burst open. A sharp light cut through the open door, enveloping the frame of a rather large, and rather rounded man.

"Damn bikers," the man grumbled, adjusting the sleeping cap on his head. He seemed to squint at the pair standing on his front steps. "Do you know what bloody time it is?"

Minerva simply stared at this man. She didn't hear the conversation being exchanged between Albus and this man. Instead, she was taking in the family they were about to leave the child in her arms with.

The man, she couldn't remember his name, was well beyond overweight. His neck was the size of her left thigh. And the vein popping out of his forehead made her want to step back in case it were to explode.

Glancing into the house, her eyes traveled up the stairs where she caught sight of two more forms. The woman was just as Minerva remembered her from childhood. She was taller, her face more scrunched in disgust at the sight of these visitors, and her neck longer than remembered. But she was effectively the same. She was holding a rather plump child in her arms. The boy was wailing his head off, but the mother was only bouncing him, her attention more so on the strangers who had knocked on their door at midnight.

Minerva didn't like this family. She didn't like this family one bit. Drawing the child in her arms closer, she once more had to disagree with Albus on this plan.

Looking down at the quiet, sleeping form of Harry Potter, she doubted Number 4 Privet Drive was the best place for him to grow up.

-oOo-

When Minerva next saw the child, he was among the incoming first years. He was thin and frail. His glasses were too big on his face, and his hair was an untidy mess.

Minerva's heart melted at the sight of this child instantly. He looked so much like his father. He had his mother's eyes. It was like Minerva was looking back through time at children she had long ago lost.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

Minerva turned to the grounds keeper, noticing the smile on his lips. Sending him to collect and usher the child into their world had been one of Albus' wiser plans.

"Thank you Hagrid," she said. She scanned over the incoming students, her eyes always ending back on those magnificent green eyes. She tried to keep her face stern in fear that the relief and guilt of leaving the child behind would cause her to rush forward and embrace him if only to reassure himself that he had indeed survived these last ten years. "I will take them from here."

The first years were watching her with an anxious stare as she turned. Throwing the Entrance Hall doors open, she motioned for them to follow her inside. They did so, and it was only after looking over her shoulder about every three steps that Minerva finally breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the children gathering around her.

Turning to face them fully, Minerva narrowed her eyes onto Harry. The boy was looking around with a mix of awe and fear. She recognized the expression. Lily Evans had crowded into this hall all those years ago with a very similar expression on her young face.

Setting into the welcoming speech she'd given dozens of times over, Minerva kept a mindful eye on Harry. She was scanning him for any sign of wear and tear. There weren't any that she could see.

He seemed to notice her staring though, and made to flatten his hair, most likely guessing that the gaze she was sending his way was harsher than she mean for it to be.

Drawing her eyes away, she reassured herself that he was alright. That leaving him with the Dursley's hadn't been the mistake she'd assumed it to be.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," Minerva wrapped up her speech. She noticed the red headed boy leaning closely to Harry. The boy had already made a friend. That was good.

"Please wait quietly." Drawing her gaze away, she left the chamber.

Minerva couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something. It was a feeling similar to the one she'd felt on the steps of Privet Drive roughly ten years ago.

-oOo-

"How can we sit back and do nothing!" Minerva yelled furiously at the Headmaster. She knew it. She had known it all along and had anyone listened to her. No! And now the boy was paying the price.

"There is nothing we can do Minerva," Albus pleaded with her.

"Bars, Albus. According to the Weasley boys, there were bars on that child's window. Molly was right to have told me. And you think it's a good thing for him to return to them come the end of the term."

"The blood ward-"

"Blood ward be damned." She slammed her fists onto the desk. The bowl of lemons drop bounced on impact, a few of the candies toppling onto the floor. "That family is not protecting him. They are abusing the boy. He would be so much better off with someone who actually would care for him."

"And who would that be?" Albus leaned back in the chair, his hands resting on the arms of his chair.

"Me," Minerva answered instantly. "I will take the boy in. I assure you that I can provide more protection than that blasted family he is with now."

"It's not a matter of simple protection," Albus leaned forward, his gaze leveled on the younger witch. He spoke calmly, despite the fuming temper of Minerva. "The blood wards have to be refueled every so often. If not, than the boy will be completely defenseless should the Dark Lord return."

"There has to be another way. A better way."

"There isn't." Albus's face was littered with remorse, his voice dripping in guilt. Minerva thought it served him right. He put the boy in this position in the first place. "Believe me, I have looked for any other option. I dislike having the boy there as much as you. But the matter still stands, that he must spend time around blood relatives in order for that protection to last. There is too much risk for him to lose that protection. It may be the only thing to keep him alive should the Dark Lord return."

"Does it have to be for the full summer?" Minerva knew there was no getting the boy from the home. But she would do everything in her power to minimize the damage. "Can the boy stay with his relatives for a week or two and go to, I don't know, the Weasley's for the remainder. Molly and Arthur have already assured me that they enjoyed having him over and would do it again in a heartbeat."

"It will have to be more than just a few weeks," Albus said. "We will have to be completely assured that the protection spell is restored before he can be removed."

"Then get to work," Minerva directed. "Figure out how long it'll take. How long he'll have to stay with those people."

"I have already been on it," Albus smiled slightly. "And I have also been in contact with Molly and Arthur concerning taking in the boy for part time. I assure you Minerva that I am working for the boy's best interest."

Minerva slumped into one of the chairs. She pinched the bridge of her nose – a habit she had acquired from too much time spent with Severus. "I know. I just worry."

"As do I. But you have to trust me on this matter."

Minerva wanted to say she did. She trusted Albus with many matters. But she was a little reluctant to trust when it came to Harry's protection. After all, it had been Albus' decision to leave the child at Privet Drive, and look how well that had turned out.

-oOo-

"You know Mr. Potter," Minerva spoke carefully as she pushed the plate of ginger snaps towards the third year, "if you want to ease drop, you might try not breathing so hard."

"Professor?" He tried to keep his voice level, but she could easily detect the hitch in his voice. He at least had the decency to know when he was caught.

"Albus wished to keep this news from you, and as did I. We didn't wish to add the burden of that knowledge onto you. But for you to truly understand the threat Sirius Black poses to you, then you need to know who it is you are facing. Now, I understand that you would have questions. I will answer them to the best of my ability."

Harry sat there, just staring at her. He looked so broken, so exposed in that plush armchair. He was ringing his hands together, a habit he did when stressed. It was something his father used to do.

"Is it true then," Harry spoke slowly. "That he did it. He turned on them."

"So they say." Minerva was impressed by the child's calmness. She expected him to blindly lash out as he often did. It wasn't a healthy way of reacting to things.

"That's what you said though," Harry spoke with a bit more force. "You said he betrayed them. He killed Pettigrew. He's the reason my parents are dead."

"Yes," Minerva answered softly. "He is."

"And now he wants me," Harry's voice chipped a bit.

She could make out the dark undertones. Reaching out, she placed a comforting hand on his knee. "I assure you Mr. Potter that Sirius Black will not get anywhere close to you. So don't think you can use this as an excuse to get out of that paper I know you haven't started."

Harry looked down. He was smirking a bit at the last comment.

"Do you have any other questions?"

"Loads," Harry replied. "But I don't think I want to know the answers."

"Understandable," Minerva said, sitting back in her chair. "When you do want answers, you know that you can always come to me. Or, if you are not comfortable with asking me, I am sure Professor Lupin will answer your questions. I'm assuming he has already told you of his relationship with Black and your father."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very well," Minerva nodded. "Do remember that my office door is always open. For whatever reason. Do not be afraid to come and talk."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. "Is it alright if I go? Quidditch practice."

Minerva nodded. "Yes."

Harry nodded back and stood. He gathered his things and made for the door. Before stepping out, he turned back to look at her. "Professor, is that really all? You aren't going to punish me for ease dropping."

"Now that you mention it," Minerva smirked at the boy's falter. "I did have something in mind. I expect one hundred line of, _I will not ease drop on teachers' conversations_. Due Monday at the beginning of class."

Harry groaned, but nodded. He turned.

"Oh, and Mr. Potter." Minerva drew her attention back onto him. "I do not know how you got to Hogsmeade, especially when you were not meant to be there. At the moment I am letting it slide with a warning. But understand that the next time you feel the need to break school rules so blatantly, I can assure you that you will be in detention until the day you graduate. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am." Harry nodded once, before fleeing the room.

He reminded her so much of the troublemaker James could be. She wanted to smile at that fact. The smile didn't last long on her lips though. Something felt off. Something felt wrong. Once more, she felt a chill down her spine that she often felt when shipping Harry back off to Privet Drive for the summer.

-oOo-

"You cannot let the boy continue!" Minerva was making yelling at Albus a habit. She had been screeching at him for quite some time now. The portraits of the old Headmaster's had begun to flee when she entered into the room.

"There isn't much we can do," once more, Albus was on the end trying to pacify her anger. "My hands are tied."

"Well untie them."

"Minerva. They are just as tied now, as they were at the beginning of this tournament. There really is nothing we can do beyond doing our best to protect him."

"Protect him?" Minerva screeched. "We have been doing an awfully poor job of protecting that boy. You saw him at the beginning of term. He barely weights anything. The bags under his eyes scream sleep deprivation. And I saw the bruises on his upper arm. And now, we are allowing the boy to fight dragons and wrestle with merepeople."

"Tasks he has done exceptionally well at."

"I don't care how well he has done, knowing this boy's luck it will soon run out. I will not stand by and watch him die."

"I assure you Minerva, he is as safe as can be. Every precaution has been put into place."

"Have you figured out who put his name into the cup yet?"

"No," Albus admitted. "But there is a lead. Severus has been trying to get information out of-"

"That's not good enough." At this point, Minerva slammed her palms onto the table top. Instead of throwing lemon drops out of the bowl, this time it was licorice snaps. They jumped about on the floor before Minerva swished them back into the bowl with a flick of her wrist and a bit of wandless magic.

"You need to trust me, Minerva. Have I ever mislead you before?"

Minerva regarded Albus with a tight lipped frown. "I want to trust you on this Albus. I have trusted you with everything. But this time, I am not so sure. But you cannot assure Harry's survival in this tournament. People have died in this. Trained, of age witches and wizards. He is but a child. And I refuse to bury him, Albus!"

She turned and stormed from the room at that point. Slamming the door behind her, Minerva leaned against it as she tried to steel herself. She wanted to believe it would be alright. She wanted to trust Albus. But her faith had been chipping ever so slightly since that night on Privet Drive all those years ago.

-oOo-

"You will be the death of me, Mr. Potter."

Maybe the word death wasn't the right word to use. She regretted it instantly when she caught the flinch the boy made. Sighing, she decided to start over. "How did your conversation with Dumbledore go?"

Harry only shrugged. Apparently Albus hadn't lied when he said the conversation had been rough.

"You do know what happened to Sirius wasn't your fault."

Harry's eyes snapped with a spark of light at the name of his Godfather. "I've already heard this speech."

"No you haven't," Minerva said as Harry began to rise. "Not from me at least. I don't know what exactly Albus and you talked about, and that is between the two of you. But it is my turn to speak, so I suggest you sit down and allow me to do so."

Harry glared at her for a second before sitting back down in a huff. That anger of his was beginning to get out of control. She knew the dangers of it getting out of hand. It was something they would need to work on come next year.

"I know the pain you must be going through," she said, her voice calm once more. "To lose a loved one, it's a hard thing to cope with. Especially for one so young, and one who has lost so much already. But you have to understand that none of this was your fault."

Harry looked away, his lips tight. He was ringing his hands together. "I really don't need this conversation, Professor. You all can say how much you understand all you want. But you don't. You have no idea what it's like. What it's like to be…"

"To be you?" Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly!" Harry's voice was rising. She could feel the anger inside of him. It seemed he didn't get it all out of his system during his talk with Albus. "I'm so tired of listening to how everyone understands what I'm going through. How it's normal to be angry. Normal to feel like this. But it isn't. It isn't okay and it isn't fair."

"You're right. It isn't fair everything that has been put onto you. It isn't fair the pain you have had to live with. You are only a child."

"But that doesn't matter," Harry growled. The air spiked with frustrated magic. "Because it's never mattered that I was just a child. That's never stopped Voldemort from trying to kill me. That didn't stop everyone acting like I'm the only one who can do things."

Harry stood, knocking over the small table as he did so. He looked at it a second, seeming ready to apologize before his eyes darkened. "It all makes me so angry. I never signed up for any of this. But that doesn't matter either. It all makes me feel like I'm going crazy. But then I remember. I'm not crazy; I'm chosen. Fucking chosen. And I never asked to be. I never asked for any of this. But that doesn't matter."

Harry kicked at the chair, sending it skating forward a few feet. He turned his back to her, hands gripping and tugging at his mess black curls.

Minerva knew that if left unattended, the boy might destroy her little office. He had started to do that to Albus' office, and despite how stress relieving a little destruction might be for him, he needed a different outlet. And Minerva wasn't in the mood to fix all her stuff. She still had papers to grade and things to take care of.

"Mr. Potter."

He turned, and Minerva was startled by the broken expression on the boy's face. There were tears sparkling in his emerald eyes. It seemed his conversation with Albus had only covered these emotions back up.

Knowing that she was looking at a boy about to break, and knowing that one wrong move or word would shatter him, Minerva rose slowly. She walked forward, reaching out slowly. She held his shoulders, feeling him shake with unshed tears. She looked up in his face. Merlin, had he gotten tall.

Without warning, Minerva drew the boy into a tight embrace. He stiffened at the contact before becoming completely ridged in his arms.

"I am sorry," Minerva whispered. "I assure you, if we could ease your pain, if we could ease the burden, we would. We aren't abandoning you. You aren't in this alone."

"It just…" Harry broke off as the sobs began to overtake his thin frame. "It hurts. It hurts so much."

"I know." Minerva gave him a tight squeeze, before releasing him. Holding him at arm's length, she cupped his chin with her fingers. "I can't imagine the sheer agony you have been though."

"When does it stop hurting?"

He sounded like a young child, not the tall, nearly sixteen year old boy that he was.

"I can't give you a real answer. You have to understand. Pain doesn't go away. You just make room for it. That doesn't mean that it won't get better. With time, I can assure you that the pain you are feeling will dull. Until then, you need to stop fighting and allow yourself to grieve and breath. There is no shame in hurting. It is what makes us human."

Harry scoffed. "I've heard that one already."

"What happened wasn't your fault. You have to understand that."

Harry didn't say anything, but nodded. His shoulders slumped, like a great weight had been lifted off. Minerva smiled at that. The boy wasn't as lost as she had feared. Drawing him back against her, she was relieved when he didn't fight.

He broke for a moment, and it was enough. The tears were falling onto her shoulder, and she only held him tighter as he cried. She held him close, allowing him to get it all out of his system.

That was when she made the decision. She wasn't going to let this boy leave the school and return to a hate filled home. Not if she had anything to say about it. She couldn't take him from the home, but she would lighten the burden in any way she could. She'd have to call in some help. The Weasley's would gladly agree. As would Lupin. And she was sure Moody would be enough to scare the Dursley's into behaving.

As Harry wrapped his arms around her, and allowed himself to fully break down, Minerva knew she was doing the right thing. She wasn't going to let this boy drowned in pain. And she wasn't going to send him back to Privet Drive with it being the Hell Hole it had been all his life.

-oOo-

"I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have raised him like a pig for the slaughter-"

She really shouldn't have removed the silencing charm placed on the office.

The air caught in Minerva's throat as she stood outside the door of the Headmaster's office. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard. But she couldn't deny Severus' words.

"But this is touching, Severus," Albus's words were muffled, and she couldn't make out the rest of his sentence. She didn't want to.

Minerva was about to bust down the door when it flew open. Severus was standing on the other side, a look of pure guilt and horror striking across his face before he managed to school his features. Glancing between her and Albus, he hung his head and shoved past her.

"Minerva, what brings you-"

"What the hell Albus!" She screamed before even stepping into the office. "What did Severus mean about a slaughter?"

Albus dropped down into his chair. He ran that cursed hand of his over his forehead. He looked tired, haggard, and aged. Minerva wasn't going to give him any sympathy though.

"Explain now, Albus."

"I really do not have the time, Minerva."

"Well make it!" She stormed into the room, slamming the door shut. Several of the nearby portraits shook with the force. She paid them no mind. "You have three seconds to start explaining to me what is going on. And I would explain carefully if I were you."

"There is too much to explain. Too little time."

"I don't want your excuse Albus! I am tired of making excuses and putting my trust in you when you clearly do not trust me in return."

"I do-"

"No you don't!" Minerva wasn't letting him get a word in. "If you did, you would tell me what is going on. I cannot believe that you would sacrifice Harry-"

"You don't understand." Albus suddenly shouted. He stood up from the chair quicker than Minerva had ever seen him move. She was startled for a moment. She'd had only seen him snap like this a few times, and never at her. "You don't understand the pressure, the positon I am in."

"And I don't care!" Minerva wasn't backing down, no matter how much Albus yelled. "I don't care about you at the moment. Just assure me that I heard wrong. Assure me that Harry is safe. That you aren't doing what I fear you are."

Albus opened his mouth, but froze. He sunk back, turning away from her. He threw his hand onto the desk for support. That action sent the bowl of candy tumbling onto the ground. Neither paid it mind as the silver bowl clattered and quickly feel silent.

"You would sacrifice him." Just saying those words made Minerva want to puck. She couldn't wrap her head around this. But she couldn't deny the words she had heard Severus say. She couldn't explain them away. "You would allow the boy to die. To throw him away like unwanted garbage. For what? Tell me, what is so important that we must make a martyr of a teenage boy?"

"How many people have died in this war?" Albus asked, still not facing her. His whole body seemed to be balancing on the weight of his hand against the desk. "How many men, women, and children have lost their lives to this fighting? That is something neither of you seem to understand. There is no other way around it. I wish I could explain it to you. I wish I could make you see, make you understand. But there isn't time. I'm sorry Minerva."

"You better be," she growled. "I trusted you. I put my faith in you. I have followed you for years. And what has that trust gotten me? I will tell you right now, Albus, it doesn't matter what reason you have for the boy's death, I will always stand in front of him as I always have. I will not sit back and let a child die. Especially not him."

She turned on her heels, and marched away.

"Minerva," Albus' voice stopped her as she held the doorknob. She glanced over her shoulder at him. He was still facing away from her. "You cannot tell anyone of what you heard. Or what we discussed. It is of the upmost important."

"It's like I don't even know you," she hissed darkly. "It's a pity. But I can honestly say, I've never hated someone as much as I hate you right now."

"And that is fine," Albus said. "If you have to hate someone, than hate me. Merlin knows that list has gotten quite long over the years. But do remember," he looked at her over his shoulder, "that my name has been on the top of that list for many years now."

Minerva didn't respond. Instead she threw the door open and stormed down the hall. She didn't pay attention to where she was going until she was back onto the open corridor beside the stairwell. It was then that she allowed herself to stop and breath.

She'd made a mistake putting her trust in Albus when Harry was concerned. She should have fought harder for the boy. She should have shoved Albus aside and saved him herself.

That was when she saw the boy in question down the hall. He had his bag banging against his back as he and Ronald dashed to class before the bell tolled. Minerva felt her knees grow weak at the sight.

He was just a child. Just a little boy who had not known love for most his life. A little boy who had finally found a family of his own. And it was all in threat of being taken away.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Minerva wouldn't let it happen. She may have given into Albus' request and left the boy with his relatives at Privet Drive, but she wasn't going to make that mistake again. She wasn't going to abandoned him like she had.

-oOo-

"Harry Potter."

Through the crowd of fighters, Minerva spotted the green eyed boy she'd been protecting for years. He turned to face her and she felt the tears dripping along her cheeks. Without warning, she reached out and drew the boy against her.

Unlike last time, Harry didn't fight the embrace. Instead, he reacted instantly and returned the hug. When they pulled apart, Minerva wanted to pull him back to her in fear that he would disappear on her. She took in his face which had matured from a copy of his father's into a face all his own. His eyes though were still as shimmering as emeralds. There were scars that she hadn't noticed earlier, and his hair hung nearly down to his shoulders. Dirt and blood covered his face, but Minerva didn't care.

He was alive.

Still holding onto his shoulders, Minerva wasn't sure how to phrase her relief.

"Professor?" Harry looked at her with concern.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was?" Minerva went straight into him. She caught sight of Ronald and Hermione stepping back and resisted the urge to smirk. "Do not leave you two. You three have caused me at least a dozen near heart attacks during this last year. I am not as young as I once was. I cannot take this stress and worry."

"We're sorry professor," Harry had the gall to look sheepish. "We didn't have much of a choice, you know."

"I know." Minerva calmed herself. "That doesn't change the fact that I have been worrying out of my mind. You three are my students. And as such, I would be rather upset should something happen to you."

"We really are alright," Hermione assured her.

"Ya, Professor," Ron added. "Intact and in one piece. You really shouldn't worry so much."

Minerva smiled at that. "Just promise me you three are done with trouble making. I don't think I can handle much more."

"We promise, Professor," Harry said. "Believe me, I am done with trouble."

Minerva wished that were true. Knowing this boy, he was simply stepping from one level of troublemaking to another. At least now she didn't have to worry about a bounty being on his head.

Smiling, she released her hold on him. She took in his full form. His shoulders no longer sagged like he was being weighed down by too great of a burden. The shine that had been in his eyes as a child was returning. He had lost so much. Had been through Hell more times than anyone should have; more times than most would have survived. But he had. And he'd come out fuller, and better for it.

She knew that it was all going to be alright. The shine in Harry's eyes told her that with the past behind, he would finally be able to move on and heal.

For the first time in sixteen years, Minerva felt the guilt of abandoning that baby boy to number 4 Privet Drive, finally lift from her shoulders.

-oOo-  
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-oOo-

 **It is nearly two in the morning, and I've been listening to Disney and Wicked melodies for several hours now. This was definitely a fun run. This one went longer than planned and took more time than originally attended. But it's done. Finally. I hope you guys enjoyed. Don't be afraid to leave a comment letting me know your opinions.**


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